


Looking For Astronauts

by talkingtothesky



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Space, Amnesia, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Second Chances, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8892994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: Those had been the best six months of John's life, living with Harold. He had planned to propose, before the war began brewing and then he knew it wouldn't be fair, to promise Harold forever, only to disappear.Seemed the universe was giving them a second chance.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Michaelssw0rd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssw0rd/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to Michaelssw0rd! They wanted a Rinch space AU and this was the best I could come up with.
> 
> Title from [The National](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E3NyfvMAh2c).
> 
> Ten points to the first commenter who picks out the Doctor Who reference ;) (Actually, there are two!)

"We've got incoming!" Captain Carter barked, swiftly adjusting their speed to minimize any impact damage. "Unidentified 'suit, drifting towards the southernmost airlock." Holographic screens flashed up in front of her. "No life signs, human origin. Looks like we've another burial to take back to Earth."

The ship's engineer, Finch, and the ship's medic, Shaw, were dispatched to receive the body.

Finch limped along, struggling to keep up with Shaw, who never patronized him by slowing to match his pace. They needed to open the nearest airlock before the body collided and bounced off the hull. Finch checked his wristband: they had about 1 minute 45 seconds before their window closed to bring the unfortunate astronaut on board.

They reached the airlock. Finch hurried to the screen on the left and began to key in the sequence to open it, while Shaw did the same on the right hand side of the door. They were fast, and their inputs had to be synchronized. They made a very good and efficient team, if Finch did say so himself.

But even with their expertise, they couldn't slow the corpse down before it hit them. The body came in too hard and did indeed bounce off the inside of the entrance bay. It turned over head over heels in the well of their gravity field, then began to drift back out into space. They were going to lose the 'suit. Shaw hit the wall beside her input panel with her fist, grunting in frustration. She stopped typing, but Harold had a backup plan.

He grit his teeth and overrode the ship's computer. He had built the entire interface, once upon a time, so it listened to him. He had the means to close the hull faster than protocol dictated. There would be a momentary power drain - there it was, the lights flickered - but they did not lose the body. It gently bumped against the inside of the shutting hull door and then gradually settled into the ship's gravity, lying flat on its back in mid air.

"Harold, did you just..." Shaw said. She sounded both irritated and impressed, and Harold allowed himself a small smile.

"It worked, didn't it?" He waggled his eyebrows.

Shaw huffed and began to type in the sequence for increasing the air pressure in the entrance bay, so that they could open the large circular doors.

That process complete, the doors opened horizontally, retracting into grooves in the floor and ceiling. Finch and Shaw stepped through and steered the floating body into the nearest med bay. There was a jet of anti-grav which poured from the ceiling, that locked on the suit's imprint, while allowing him and Sameen to walk normally.

The man - for they could tell the probable physiology now, closer up - in the space suit was settled onto a table. They could not remove the helmet until de-pressurization inside the suit was fully established. A screen which formed part of the arm of the spacesuit told them that oxygen levels for the suit were zero. It did so repeatedly, without recognizing the change in environment inside the ship. That gave them an obvious cause of death. Who knew how long this man had been floating out in the vacuum of space, starved of breathable air?

Sameen's attempts to persuade the suit to communicate with her fell on deaf circuits. Harold quietly cut the power line to the screen so that the annoying, tiny, shrill alarm ceased to sound.

Shaw tutted at him. "Smartass."

They set to work on the helmet. Harold was reluctant to open the visor - there could be all sorts of damage inside. The image of Nathan - floating in space with a hole cut clean through his head by flying debris - never left Finch's memory.

But Shaw, who knew nothing about this traumatic event in Harold's past, pressed on regardless. After some trial and error, she keyed in the correct sequence of lights to release the helmet's lock, and the visor slid up.

Harold stood and stared. The man's face was _beautiful_. A long, thin nose, thick eyelashes, sharp cheekbones. More than that, it was painfully familiar.

Shaw seemed to recognize something was up. "Finch?"

Harold looked up at her, his eyes round and wide. "I know him." He said, tremulously. He continued in a quieter, almost distant tone: "His name is John. We met on New New York. Lived together for six months before he left to join the war against the Samaritans. That was four years ago. I...I thought he was dead."

"Well, he is now," Shaw said, with her typical lack of tact. She winced and corrected herself. "I'm sorry, Harold."

But Harold wasn't listening. He'd bent to kiss the man's cold lips. A moment later, tendrils of red light began to seep out from Harold's wrist comp, entwining with John's fingers, forming a thick band of glowing particles, linking their hands.

Shaw realized what he was doing. Giving up some of his life force, in order to extend John's. "No, that's not going to work -!" She protested, but a moment later she was proved wrong. The man sat up really fast, forehead almost colliding with Harold's, who staggered back, panting for breath.

Shaw rushed forward, ready to wrestle her newly alive patient to the table if he came up fighting.

He didn't cry out or try to break her arm. He was staring at the ceiling, blinking slowly, most likely adjusting to the high level of light.

The red link remained between him and Harold, stretching and coiling in the air, thinner now, but bright.

His first words were: "Was someone kissing me?"

Harold laughed, then clapped a hand over his own mouth, tears shining in his eyes.

They were soulmates. Had to be. That was the only way that trick worked. Shaw had tried it herself once, the night Cole had died in her arms. The universe had cruelly decided she didn't love Cole enough to save him.

"I need to go tell the Captain." Shaw hurried off to tell Carter the news. They would have a new mouth to feed until they returned to Earth. Food packs would need redistributing.

She also left John and Harold alone to talk.

John slowly sat up and swung his legs around to dangle off the high metal table. He took off his helmet and his blurry gaze fixed on a familiar outline.

"Harold. Is that you?"

A well-loved, shaky voice replied: "It's me. I'm here, John. Always." The blurry figure came closer, and held his hand.

John's eyes finally adjusted. "You look older," he said, sadly, noting the furrows on Harold's brow. Those hadn't been there when they last met.

Harold shrugged and smiled. "You don't."

John had a thought. "What year is this?"

Harold looked slightly alarmed, but answered readily enough. "3016. Have you been...travelling in time?"

Harold knew the ICIA (Interplanetary Covert Intelligence Agency) tended to employ those sorts of methods for resolving disputes these days. He'd hate to think John was mixed up in that kind of work. It was incredibly dangerous.

But John wasn't listening to him. He'd unlocked his glove and pulled off the front part of the torso section of his spacesuit. He winced when he tried to pull his right arm free. "I think my arm is broken."

Harold gave a sympathetic little "Ah!" He was remembering the collision with the inside of the airlock. It was to be expected, at those kinds of speeds, that the shell of the suit would not protect John's bones from the impact. "Wait there, don't move!" He said. Thanks to his own injury, he knew where Sameen kept her basic medicines, as well as some of the less basic ones.

John stared in silence at the unevenness of Harold's gait as he walked away. Clearly a lot of things had changed since they were together.

Harold returned promptly. "Here, drink this."

John drank without even looking at the label. He was still ready to trust Harold to the extent of recklessness when it came to his own health and body, then. Some things never changed.

John swallowed, waited. There was a heat and tingling down from his shoulder to the elbow. Within a minute, the medicine had done its work. He flexed his hand, then pulled off the entire sleeve of suit armor as though the arm had never been hurt.

"Nice," he said, probing his own muscles for weaknesses, and with John sitting there topless in front of him, Harold had to silently agree. John was commenting on the efficacy of the drug, of course, while Harold was not.

John looked up at him suddenly. "Did you just save my life?"

Harold smirked. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"Hmm, you make a bad habit of it." John said chidingly, but he reached for Harold's hand and squeezed it. "Thank you."

Harold disentangled their fingers, pushed closer until he stood between John's thighs. He placed both hands on John's face, thumbs stroking across his cheeks. He kissed him again, and the red cord of light linking them together pulsed brighter for a moment and then dissipated. He'd been giving John his strength for several minutes now. Kissing him healed the ache in Harold's bones, and heart.

"It's good to have you back." Harold murmured.

John looked a little dazed as Harold stepped away. He suddenly shivered, realizing he was sitting in a cold med bay half-naked. Harold's life force had kept him toasty warm.

Harold touched his bare shoulder. "I'd better find you some clothes."

This time John smiled as Harold left the room. He hoped Harold would offer to dress him, like he used to, back on New New York. Those had been the best six months of John's life, living with Harold. He had planned to propose, before the war began brewing and then he knew it wouldn't be fair, to promise Harold forever, only to disappear.

Seemed the universe was giving them a second chance.

Harold returned with a pile of clothes. He set them down beside John on the table and turned his back, giving John his privacy. John swallowed his disappointment and removed the rest of the spacesuit.

"Do you remember where you were, before...what happened?" Harold asked, still facing away.

John searched his memories. He didn't know. The last image he had...he was standing in a field, surrounded by long, swaying grass. He didn't even remember putting on his 'suit.

Instead of answering, not wanting to worry Finch, he asked a question of his own. "Where are we?"

"Travelling through the Orion Nebula, on course to land on Earth in 26 days. This ship is named Ernest."

John finished doing up his new jeans - they were slightly too tight - and said "As in Ernest Thornhill?" He remembered that name but didn't know why.

Harold turned to him and smiled. "Exactly. I knew you'd be the only one to place the reference."

John remembered something else. There had been another person in the room when he woke up. A woman's voice. She'd said she needed to talk to the Captain. "Why aren't you the Captain?"

Harold looked at him over the top of his glasses. He'd moved in close again and was helping to tuck in John's shirt. "I didn't want to be." He grasped John's wrist. "Come on, I'd better introduce you."

They left the med bay and emerged into a long, high corridor.

"But you own the ship, right?" John guessed.

Finch glared. "Keep your voice down."

Reese grinned. "That's my Harold."

The moment they entered the command deck, Carter began to scold Harold for messing with the protocols again. "If the power drain had been more severe, you could have shut down life support! We have rules for a _reason_..."

But her face lost its severe look when she looked up from her screens and saw their new arrival. "John!" She left her post, hurried over and threw her arms around him.

Wrapped in a bear hug, John chuckled. “Hey, Joss! Glad to see you finally got that commission.” He picked her up and swung her round a little.

Harold scowled. "You two have met?" He would have liked to introduce John as his partner, but he hadn't had the chance.

Joss slapped his back until he put her down. She explained. "We fought together in the first battles at Claypool. John was my best soldier before he went and got promoted. How are you, big guy? Still cheating death, I see."

John let go of their Captain in favor of draping an arm around Harold's shoulders. "Thanks to my future husband, here."

Harold bristled, thinking John was joking. "Future _what_?"

"Just as soon as I can get my hands on an Earth diamond big enough to propose with." John added, winking at Carter.

"I...oh." Harold blushed.

Joss laughed, delighted for them. "Congratulations, Harold." And then to John: "Welcome onboard. Let me introduce you to the rest of the team."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Looking For Astronauts (Art)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014373) by [Michaelssw0rd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssw0rd/pseuds/Michaelssw0rd), [Michaelssw0rd-art (Michaelssw0rd)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssw0rd/pseuds/Michaelssw0rd-art)




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